Page 28 of Nash

I’ve watched his career the last three years. I know what type of man he is. He loves to hop from date to date, and he’s never told me any different. He’s only been so focused on me because of the deal we struck and that’s totally fine. I’m benefiting from this situation as much ormore thanhe is. Because not only is my career thriving, but I also have this fun, confident, sexy ass NHL player planning dates for me and kissing me like I’m the only person that matters in the entire world.

That’s too good of a world to shatter with labels and definitions.

A knock on my door has me snapping my eyes open, the breath whooshing from my lungs.

He’s here.

Ohmigod, why am I so nervous?

I swing open the door, hoping I look calm instead of chaotic.

Nash is there, looking too handsome for words in a blue Henley that matches his eyes, his hair down and wild, his eyes widening as he looks me up and down.

“You look amazing,” he says, leaning in to kiss me quickly. “You ready for tonight?”

I grin, my stomach flipping from the kiss. “This is the first Valentine’s Day in a few years that I have a date, so yeah, I’m ready.”

“Really?” he asks as we lock up my apartment and get into his car.

“Why do you always sound surprised?” I ask as he drives.

“I don’t know,” he says, getting onto the highway. “I feel like any man who is lucky enough to be with you would be excited to plan dates for you.”

Well, that concept is just too cute for words.

“The few times I’ve actually been dating someone around Valentine’s Day, it wasn’t serious, and each of them broke things off before the big lovey-dovey day.”

“No shit?”

“No shit,” I say, shrugging. “I’ve had some horrible dates too,” I continue. “Some I thought were heading in a serious direction only to find outIwas the side-chick to their serious relationship.” I swallow hard. “I kind of backed off dating since then.”

“Fucking hell,” he says, shaking his head. “I knew you’d mentioned it before, but damn. I hate that anyone would treat you like that. Let alone not plan dates for you?Cowards.”

I can’t help but laugh. “Says the man who’s never in a serious relationship.”

“Hey, at least I’m up front about that,” he says, navigating the roads. “Everyone I date knows that. It’s not like I hide it, and I don’t lead them on just to call things off before a holiday.”

“That’s fair,” I say. “And besides,” I continue. “This isn’t a real thing anyway. I’m sure you picked this date because it’ll look stellar on camera, and I honestly appreciate that.”

I did. The social media page’s performance has been great for both of us.

I pull out my phone, aiming the camera at him both in an effort to get content and to remind myself of exactlywhywe're doing what we're doing. Sure, I may be enjoying the hell out of it, but in the end, this is a job for both of us.

“This may look awesome on the camera," he says. “But I picked it for you."

Butterflies take off in my stomach, a spark flying through me at his words.

Nash catches me recording and flashes me a smile that has me totally melting. It's all I can do to capture it before he returns his focus to the road, and I lock my phone and put it back in my bag.

“Are we going to a late-night boneless wing dinner?” I tease him.

“That definitely would be a date for you,” he says, smirking a little. “But no, this has something to do with one of your other passions.”

I wonder what we could possibly be doing and what he’d picked up in our conversations over the last month and a half that would make him choose it. And it isn't until he pulls off the highway and navigates his way through the University of Maine that I gasp.

“You didn’t,” I say, completely unbelieving as he parks near the astronomy center.

Nash’s smile is wide and effortless as he hurries out of the car, opening my door for me before I can even reach for it. He offers me his hand, and I take it, quite literally feeling like I'm being swept off my feet.

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